


Legends Are For Dead Men

by Sufferando



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: #galacticsantas2k19, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking to Cope, Friendship, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Male Friendship, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sufferando/pseuds/Sufferando
Summary: A look into the many conversations of Mittermeyer and Reuenthal
Relationships: Wolfgang Mittermeyer/Oskar von Reuenthal
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Legends Are For Dead Men

For once the bar wasn’t filled with drunken profanity or stricken with the screams of admirals drowning memories of battles past. It was still, as the scene was set upon the last residence of this shabby drinking hole. This was the admirals last hope of relaxing their nerves before the next assignment.

“You gonna finish that or am I gonna have to get you another one?” one broke the silence.

“Don’t doubt me Mittermayer, I’m just thinking for a moment.” He took a small sip from the glass, “Alcohol can only cloud the mind at times.”

“AH, but it can also relieve it.” Mittermayer called over the bar keep asking for another drink.

“Why do we have to come to a bar when we can easily drink in one of our homes?” 

“I’m baffled by your attitude, you’re not just Admiral Oskar von Reuenthal,” Mittermayer took another sip, larger than last time, “You’re also man of the people and that’s what the citizens need to see us for. Just another man like the rest.” Reuenthal glared to Mittermayer, his gaze finally leaving the sight of the barely finished glass.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reuenthal took a huge swig from his glass, trying to see if he could match Mittermayer’s thought process. “We can’t just be men, people love us and despise us. We can’t go anywhere without being known for what we’ve done for the empire.” Reuenthal finished off his drink and rest his head onto the solid wood of the bar counter.

Mittermayer signaled for Reuenthal’s glass to be refilled. Placing a hand on his shoulder there was need to take the conversation to a new position. His aim was true and was never wanting to hurt a friend in any case. Maybe the alcohol jumbled his words but there was some kind of meaning behind them. He just wanted Reuenthal to feel better about them, taking one more sip before talking again.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” another sip of courage “What makes great men great is the problems they face and the baggage they must carry.” Only a shuffle was received from Reuenthal. Mittermayer could only talk to the wind as he continued, “It’s what separates us from boys, those who cry when their doubts terrorize them or fight when their demons crowd. I’m sorry to ask this of you Reuenthal but do you remember being young?” 

Reuenthal lifted his head slightly just to look straight at his recently topped of glass. 

“I do,” he responded before taking a mouthful of the hard liquor, “I don’t want to but I do.” Bleeding his words out before setting down his head again.

“See how much you have changed since then,” Mittermayer’s hand tightened “You’re no longer that boy, you’re Reuenthal.”

Breaths remained still, Mittermayer not being able to tell if the situation was settled or more fuel was added to the flame. There was no way to tell if Reuenthal was angry unless he said something but even than he liked to stay silent. 

“You’re only making the hole bigger Mittermayer.” Reuenthal slumped more into his position. Seemingly cozy in his slight tipsy daze. The once tightly gripped hand was finally removed.

“More like I’m trying to get you out of one,” Embarrassed, Mittermayer tried to hold his ground “I want us to enjoy the world and not hide from it.”

“I’m fine with burying myself, it’ll get me to the grave quicker.”

“Oh come on man, you are being ridiculous now. What kind of talk is that from an Admiral? Are those the kind of words you say to your men?” A hard swallow to finish the rest of his drink as Mittermayer called for another one. “We’re not legends Reuenthal, we’re men, don’t rush to the grave when it’s not necessary.” He soon slumped into his own hands.

Reuenthal lifted up his head to pear into his glass, tempted to take another drink. Maybe by tomorrow this night wouldn’t even be a memory. But something seemed to block his view of the noxious beverage, no matter what angle he could look at it.

It was Mittermayer. The reflection from the glass seemed to only give him perfect view of the Admiral sitting next to him. When they got into these sorts of disputes there was a problem of forgetting that he was not sitting next to a stranger.

“I do appreciate that someone wants to keep me alive,” Reuenthal emerged from his folds with tiny bumps in his speech, “if my tactics can’t do it surely you’re ready to step in.”

“I thought you had fallen asleep by now.” Mittermayer mutter from his hands.

“Not yet,” there was a pause for Reuenthal trying not to grin “But I do feel the need to go home soon.” 

“You can’t already cower from me just yet.” The slurs in Mittermayer speech marked a playful sting.

“I only need a recharge from this battle, I’ll only come back stronger.” Reuenthal started to get up from his seat.

“Ah but that’s not proper tactics, you think we could ‘come back stronger’ when we’ve been surrounded by the enemy?”

“They’d probably appreciate it, at least we’d all get to go home.”

A small laugh was shared between both of them. The bar only echoed their voices louder than they would have liked. They were only happy that they could still laugh with one another. Even after their laughter died down they couldn’t help but smile with one another. 

“Don’t share anymore drinks with me Reuenthal, just share a laugh with me.”

“I don’t think I can take anymore, you sure know how to drain me. You’re like alcohol expect I don’t wake up with a headache in the morning.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“In many cases, yes. In others, I would rather just sleep.”

“I guess I’ll take it as a good thing.” Mittermayer turned to face the bar again as Reuenthal moved forward. 

Along his walk he paused and turned back to the lonely Mittermayer about to raise his hand for another drink. Before he could even raise it the grasp of Reuenthal was felt on his wrist. 

“Don’t waste your time with this bog water, men deserve better and I got a bottle to refill us at home.” 

No words were spoken as they left the bar. Being only able to keep each other balanced before getting outside and laughing till they were blue in the face. Tripping over stones but having one catch the other. Repeating the process over and over till getting to Reuenthal’s home.

Closing the world to their antics. 


End file.
